


Admired Ink

by timey_wimey_wayward_lock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, NSFW, One Shot, Punk!lock, Punklock, Red Pants, Red Pants Monday, Swimming, Swimming Pools, Tattoo!lock, Tattoos, Unilock, and some other stuff, tattoolock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1547402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timey_wimey_wayward_lock/pseuds/timey_wimey_wayward_lock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his side cut, piercings, tattoos, and dark clothing, Sherlock's fashion style isn't exactly normal. His friend, John, has the same idea in mind for his wardrobe choice. They've become best friends, and Sherlock wouldn't trade it for the world. That's why, they break into the Uni pool one evening to have a swim. Things begin like a regular friendly bout, until they get a bit more involved. At least, for as long as they're allowed in the water after hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admired Ink

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you all enjoy this little punk!lock fic I wrote!
> 
> I am unsure who created the AU, but all the credit goes towards those who have come up with the tattoolock ideas, and such. I own the story, but the AU ideas are not mine.
> 
> Any concerns, or questions, feel free to send them to me.
> 
> If you see any mistakes, tell me in a comment!
> 
> Please do not steal any of my work!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and if you'd like, I have some other fan-fictions you could read. I have written a star!john series, and a few other one-shots.
> 
> If you post this link on tumblr, please be sure to let me know and include my name. My tumblr is guitarriffsandamazingships. 
> 
> -timey_wimey_wayward_lock

The University campus was bare at this time of night, and all of the students were in bed, studying inside, or at a party. That's how things were in Uni. You either spent all of your time on your studies, or you shacked up with others and used substances. Everyday another young adult was kicked out because of their utter stupidity. But, there were two boys who did neither. In fact, these very two boys spent their time either working on studies, experiments (in Sherlock’s case), or together. Ever since they met, they’d been inseparable. Tied to the hip as friends, and would be even someday when they became partners.

 

\--

 

The navy void above them was sprinkled with yellow, twinkling stars, and the few street lamps cast a slight amount of light throughout the campus. It was just enough for the two boys to see the pool, and the lock that held the gate closed. It was also enough for Sherlock, and his nimble fingers, to pick the lock and let them inside. From then on, their eyes adjusted the dim lighting, and they were able to enjoy their feat together.

 

Once inside the pool grounds, Sherlock gave one last glance to make sure that no eyes were prying. It was unlikely, of course, and his lack of suspicion was confirmed once his piercing eyes swept the entire campus. No one was watching, or listening in, and they were free to swim as they pleased. Then, his gaze finally fell on his friend John. Neither of them really bothered to care about getting caught, though the precaution was still in the air. John had been doing the same thing as he, mere minutes ago, but now he was grinning. His teeth were straight and white, shining behind small, thin lips. There were dimples in his round cheeks, which accented his rather carefree and kind behavior. He was staring at Sherlock with a look of curiosity and happiness in his eyes, which gave Sherlock an indication of what the other was thinking.

 

He, on the other hand, took a few more moments to process the things around them, and John. It was inevitable that he would deduce the blond, though had grown to keep those deductions to himself. John thought him brilliant, but didn’t always enjoy the breach in privacy to be said aloud. So, Sherlock respected his opinion. It had taken him a bit longer than most, but he wasn’t exactly the most normal friend.

 

“Well, come on, mate. The pool is waiting,” John drawled, with a slight smirk and a teasing look in his navy orbs. He began to strip, Sherlock doing the same a few minutes after. “And don't you dare say a fucking word about my pants.”

 

Though Sherlock didn’t answer, he smirked. The brunet knew exactly what John was talking about, since he’d found out about the vibrant, red pants a few months ago. It was quite the sight. John normally wore dark clothing, and such a colour was striking against his tanned skin.

 

If Sherlock had to be completely honest, he might even say that he found them slightly attractive.

 

Glancing over once more time, Sherlock then began to work the jewelry off his wrists. He set his studded bracelets and leather gloves aside, which left his arms uncovered. His tattoos were still visible in the dark; the honeycombs that twisted into crimson poppies, and then the golden wings and the science references. He had a fair amount of ink on his skin, along with his sleeves, and John was rather similar. Not to mention the various piercings each boy had. Sherlock sported gauges, three cartilage rings, and an eyebrow piercing. His eyes were almost always lined with black liner, which made his iridescent orbs pop. Sherlock’s hair was a side cut; one side shaved, and the other a cacophony of brown curls. His attire was a mix of black, skinny jeans, and oddly ripped shirts.

 

John was merely meters away, stripping down into nothing except for his pair of red, energetic boxers, like he’d suggested. His muscles were taut, arms lined with the colours of tattoos. Sherlock admired the military crest and the heart on his chest, as he began to slip his own long sleeve shirt off. The blond man wasn’t looking at him, and was unable to see the brunet staring, as he toed off his socks and combat boots. He was short, but had strong and muscled legs. Along with his other aesthetically pleasing features, his hair was shaggy, tips dyed with red; his newest colour.

 

Sherlock never audibly commented on John’s hair, but he did in fact like it. This time, the red matched his pants, and Sherlock thought it to be rather nice. Quite nice, indeed.

 

John had finished, and he ran towards the pool. He was quick to jump off the side, falling into the icy water. It made Sherlock smile, as he stepped out of his tight jeans. Now in just silk, black boxers himself, he made way for the water just as John had. His feet left the rough surface of the poolside, and the cold water took in his body. It made him yelp slightly, but with laughter, and within minutes he was used to the temperature. Then, he ducked under the surface to sneak up behind his muscled friend. Sherlock’s pale hands captured John’s waist, giving it a squeeze, before popping up again to splash him and dart away.

 

Under the water, Sherlock barely heard the sound of John calling out to him. “Come here, you git! I’ll find you, give you a dunk. See how you like it then, pretty boy!” It’s how their usual banter was, and Sherlock enjoyed every minute of it. Being best friends with John was quite the experience. He’d never had a friend other than John, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

In truth, Sherlock sometimes found himself enjoying John’s company more than seemed necessary. More than he probably should. They got on well, and this didn’t help to deter the emotions that filled Sherlock from such little things. It was strange. For a man who had vowed not to bother with sentiment, there he was, thinking about John. All of the time. When their hands brushed, he felt a tingling throughout him. He took pride in John’s compliments. And most of all, he wanted /more/. It was.. unusual for him. He’d never had such powerful emotions to deal with. Regular emotions were simple to suppress unless needed, but these were not so. They were extremely forceful, and kept him up nights.

 

Sherlock was taken from his thoughts when he felt his chest ache. His lungs begged for air, and so he came up to take a breath. John was there in an instant, of course, grin on his face, and he reached out to grab a hold of the thin brunet. Sherlock instantly knew he’d be pulled under, and so he prepared, just as the blond tugged him down. When surrounded by the liquid, he kicked his legs playfully, trying to fight off John the best he could. They ended up pressed together, John’s arms around him, as he struggled to get free. The expression on John’s face was that of satisfaction, and it grew into a pleased smirk as he hauled them both up to the surface and refused to let go.

 

“Ha! I’ve got you, you little bugger!” John’s grip tightened, and Sherlock stilled in his hold, letting out a disagreeing chuckle.

 

“Hardly, John. When have you ever won a challenge in this friendship?” His tone was teasing, as he stared at John. Sherlock’s eyes were hard, but happy, and inside he felt a flurry of emotions. He felt the joy of their fun, but there were more. His realization of what was going on, of how close the blond was, began to stir up other emotions. He kept them from his face, but it was difficult.

 

/John was holding him/.

 

His thin chest was pressed tight against John’s. Their faces were inches apart. Legs; almost tangled. The hold was for fun, he knew, but sensations ran through him that he had never experienced before. It was pleasing, to be held in such a manner. Slightly too tight, of course, but if the pressure was lessened slightly, it would be brilliant.

 

When had he ever enjoyed such physical contact?

 

The answer was never. At least, never with someone other than John.

 

Sherlock realized he’d gone silent, for a few minutes. He blinked to put his thoughts aside, and he realized that the other was still holding tight to him. John’s expression was that of confusion, slight worry, and something else. Sherlock couldn’t identify it without getting a good look at his mannerisms. Besides, his own mind was slightly foggy already, which made it even more difficult to make deductions. A few moments later, the blond let out a soft, awkward cough, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Something wrong, mate?” His voice was quiet, slightly timid. Sherlock was unsure of why.

 

How was he supposed to reply? His thoughts had been quite personal, and he knew for a fact that his friend didn’t swing his way. John had slight bisexual tendencies, he’d noticed, but the blond had never acted on them. He’d only ever had short relationships with women; usually girls with textured hair and piles of makeup. They had all repulsed Sherlock.

 

So, he didn’t answer. Merely shrugged.

 

John blinked in response; once, twice. He didn’t let go. His arms loosened just slightly, and Sherlock wondered if he was giving him the chance to get free. To win the challenge. But, instead, something else happened.

 

John kissed him.

 

Square on the mouth.

 

He could feel John’s thin lips pushing against his full ones, his arms tightening ever so slightly, and then his eagerness. Sherlock couldn’t respond. He was unsure of what to do, what to think. All he could comprehend was that it felt good. /Very/ good.

 

John’s movements were passionate, and Sherlock was able to grasp the concept fairly quickly. After a minute or so in, he began to return the feverish kisses. They grew longer, more passionate, and Sherlock began to get the knack of it. John’s pierced tongue protruded from his parted lips and pushed at Sherlock’s closed ones, which had been slightly unexpected. A gasp fell from the brunet’s lips, and his cheeks turned a deep rose - the colour almost falling into a deep crimson.

 

The gasp was enough to invite John’s tongue inside of his mouth. Sherlock could feel the metal sliding around, /everywhere/. Their mouths were a mix of saliva and heat, which he began to reciprocate skillfully.

 

Soon, they were snogging full on, in the pool. Sherlock moved his hands to John’s body, and let his palms trace every inch of ink John had. In return, the blond did the same. Sherlock could feel calloused fingers move down his chest, to feel the antler tattoos that accentuated his v-line. His own digits tangled in the freshly dyed hair on John’s head. A stifled moan - had that been him, or John? It didn’t matter, rather, only heightened the experience.

 

Sherlock was becoming more greedy. He felt starved of John. Starved of physical contact. All of his yearning, and thinking, were being acted upon. John was kissing him, hard, and that definitely meant something.

 

So, he had been wrong about his feelings not being reciprocated.

 

Stupid, /stupid/ Sherlock.

 

“Sher…” John spoke his name in a gravelly tone, and it sounded like he was pleading.

 

Sherlock only quieted him with another kiss. He didn’t want to talk. Not yet. If they were to talk, this would be over. John would be repulsed and their friendship would end. Sherlock could not have that.

 

“Sher, wait,” John interrupted again, and this time he had to pull away. Reluctantly.

 

“Yes, John?” Sherlock was impatient. He wanted more kisses. More /John/.

 

But, instead of John giving a reply, another voice sounded in his ears.

 

“You two. Apart, up, and out of the pool.” Sherlock instantly recognized the voice of one of their professors.

 

He tried to stifle the groan that made it’s way up his throat. Damn. They were merely having a bit of fun, safely, and yet the professors still had to be completely unreasonable. Giving John a desperate look, he slowly untangled himself. They both slipped up out of the water, drenched and flushed. Sherlock felt a slight wave of embarrassment, which was quite unlike himself. All he could hope was that John didn’t suddenly regret their outing. Or their /kisses/.

 

“John, Sherlock, if I ever catch you in the pool after hours again, we will take things up with the Dean. Now, I suggest you grab your clothes and return to your dorm rooms. Go.” Mr. Jenkins was cross, his finger pointing in the direction of the residence building.

 

They didn’t say a word. At least, not at first. Sherlock grabbed his clothing, with a huff of frustration, and walked with John. It was silent most of the way, though Sherlock began to wonder if John could hear his heartbeat. It was fast paced, and his breathing was still heavy. He was sure his pupils would be dilated, because he was definitely showing the other signs of arousal. Finally, when they were out of earshot, John spoke up. The weight that had settled onto Sherlock’s shoulders lifted, and he felt a wave of relief. At least John wasn’t angry. Instead, his words were far from angered. They were actually quite surprising. “I fancy you, you know. And if you’d care for more snogging, you could come to my room. Roommates’ out for an entire week; got the place to myself.”

 

Sherlock perked up quickly, grinned, and answered with certainty. “Yeah. I… Fancy you, as well. And, I’d like to admire a few more of your tattoos, if you wouldn’t mind. I know you’ve got some hidden in some rather, shall we say, intimate places.”

 

 


End file.
